


you can't make homes out of people then expect them to stay and get angry when they leave

by Su1010



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alone, Angst, Breakup, Heartbreak, I cant seem to stop writing sakuatsu angst, Loneliness, M/M, Relationship Problems, character study of sorts, it's all pain, kita is briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Su1010/pseuds/Su1010
Summary: Miya Atsumu has always made homes out of other people and left heartbroken when they leave; without realising Kiyoomi Sakusa has made a home out of him too.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	you can't make homes out of people then expect them to stay and get angry when they leave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [min_mintobe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/min_mintobe/gifts).



> Okay first of all everyone say thank you eaJ and Keshi who wrote Pillows which was on loop while I wrote this and this fic was heavily inspired by it. I recommend listening to it for the full experience. 
> 
> Secondly, this is dedicated to Min whose fic Dig I re-read last night and it helped me out of my writing burnout. Go check out the stunning fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26462932)
> 
> Thirdly, this was sort of based on my own experience too and well, sometimes we just need someone lonely to accommodate our own loneliness, right? But hey, enough of the self-deprecation heh, enjoy!

There was a certain comfort to be found in the silence that shrouded the city during the night. But for someone like Miya Atsumu who was well-acquainted with the cacophony of noise in the volleyball court, the silence was deafening as he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, brown eyes trained on the dark spot from where water would leak from during the monsoon season.

The small space was getting suffocating, tightening like a noose around his neck when he realised Kita wasn’t around anymore. It hadn’t been a misunderstanding nor anything similar along the lines of a big revelation. In fact, Atsumu would have preferred it if they had at least shouted insults at each other and screamed until the stars dropped from their moorings. But this separation had been equal parts hushed words and gentle whispers and soft tugging at the stray strands of his hair until one day Kita woke up and realised he didn’t love Atsumu anymore and that was the worst pain Atsumu had felt ever since he had fractured his left arm during one of their early season matches.

Draping an arm over his eyes in an attempt to block out the moonlight streaming through his bedroom window _(he didn’t draw the curtains because he could still imagine Kita’s silhouette standing there with a cup of tea in his hand while Atsumu came up and wrapped him in a warm embrace from behind)_ , Atsumu reached for his pillow and gripped the edges to let his hands at least feel something tangible, just for the sake of making contact with something. But soft corners were not built to accommodate rough and jagged edges like Atsumu Miya and the realisation was slowly sinking in and it was painful to remember. For someone who had built a home in another person, this house contained too many memories for two people who had vowed long ago they didn’t need any.

Getting up slowly, Atsumu made his way over to the kitchen and tugged on the fridge door, taking out the bottle of cold water. Against his better judgement, he spotted the can of beer stored right beside it and reached for that instead. Downing the contents in one go, he found himself unable to stand and let his knees collapse beneath him, falling to the floor in a whimpering mess of words left unspoken and love left unshared. There was too much affection contained in Atsumu Miya’s bare anatomy, too much to let him be left with it alone. He needed someone to share it with, someone to pour it all onto since he couldn’t give it to himself. With Kita it had been a bit easier to love himself on the days he felt like not getting up from bed. It had been more convenient to swallow the lies people fed him on the days he felt inadequate. Hell, with Kita it felt easier to take instead of giving and Atsumu Miya was not a person that felt comfortable with taking _anything_ because he believed everything needed to be earned.

A heavy sigh that had been weighing on his chest for the past two weeks escaped his saccharine lips and he got up slowly, clutching the counter for support. Grabbing his phone from the table and his coat from the couch, he locked his door behind him and headed out.

The city was beautiful at night and concealed all its flaws under a bright façade of dim streetlights and daunting skyscrapers. Speeding vehicles passed Atsumu at an alarming rate and he felt anger course through him like the low hum of static electricity. Stepping around a couple who were engrossed with gazing into each other’s eyes, he reached a familiar building five minutes later and went inside, heading upstairs to knock on the door of unit 320.

Kiyoomi Sakusa groaned and rubbed at his eyes roughly, heading towards his door and cursing whoever the fuck it was at 2 in the morning. When he opened it to find Miya Atsumu standing on his doorstep, all the words he wanted to say melted on his tongue like ice-cream on a hot summer day much like the one they had during one of the matches – the one where Atsumu had hugged Sakusa after their victory. It was the first time Sakusa had ever let anyone aside from his Itachiyama teammates and family members touch him; and he wasn’t disgusted.

As he looked at this version of Miya Atsumu whose blonde hair seemed too dull tonight unlike the flaming ichor it usually reminded Sakusa of and tears streaking down his cheeks, Sakusa pulled him in and wrapped his arms around the shorter man, feeling him fall apart under his touch.

Letting Atsumu lean on him, Sakusa bent down to remove the worn-out slippers on his feet and tossed them to the side, taking off his coat and throwing it onto the couch. Leading Atsumu to his bedroom, Sakusa slowly released his grip on him hesitantly and went to grab a glass of water. When he came back, Atsumu had completely broken down and Sakusa Kiyoomi who failed to even cheer _himself_ up during one of his weekly scheduled mental breakdowns, drew a blank on how to comfort someone else. He eventually settled for sitting beside Atsumu and let the latter lean on his shoulder as he laid his hand on the nape of Atsumu’s neck and cradled his head gently.

“Feeling better Miya?” he asked after Atsumu had fallen silent and he looked to see the setter had dozed off, his eyes closed and Sakusa despised admitting it, but he missed those brown eyes under the sunlight. He wanted him awake, just to admire Miya Atsumu in all his beauty. As he slowly laid Atsumu down on his bed and drew the blanket to cover him, Atsumu murmured something in his sleep and Sakusa leaned forward slightly to make out the word that escaped those rose-coloured lips he had grown accustomed to.

“Kita.”

_Oh._

Struggling to keep his composure, Sakusa closed the bedroom door behind him and took a seat at the kitchen counter, grabbing the carton of cigarettes from the bottom drawer and lighting one. Taking a long drag, he walked over to the balcony and watched as the moon illuminated all that was beneath it in all its tragic, melancholy glory.

Sakusa knew full well Atsumu belonged to someone else – his old captain from Inarazaki, Shinsuke Kita. He just chose to remain indifferent and not acknowledge this fact because as with all the previous times Atsumu came running to his apartment after a fight or an argument, he had opened the door despite knowing there was only one person hurting in this situation and it was always going to be him. But he was fine with that, as long as it spared Atsumu the pain because Sakusa didn’t know how much pain could one person sustain and Atsumu seemed to have suffered enough of it over the past twenty-three years.

You see the thing with life in all its fleeting fragility and mortality with its greed is that humans always demanded more. There was never anything too much nor too less for us. It all had to be excess like gluttony. It was between this dichotomy that Sakusa realised he was in love with Atsumu and it was not lust anymore. He wasn’t in love with the idea of being in love with his setter; he was in love with the man himself and he knew he was never going to have him. That’s why through all the repeating late-night visits, he kept opening the door and letting Atsumu lean on him until he went back home to the person he loved. But now his house was empty and nothing of Kita remained and speaking from experience, Sakusa knew that merely filling a house with furniture did not make it a home.

A tap on the glass door snapped him out of his reverie and he jumped, startled at the abrupt interruption. Atsumu stared at him with those warm honeyed eyes and a soft smile tugged at the corner of Sakusa’s lips although he refused to show it. Holding up a hand, he put out the cigarette and let the ashes be carried away by the wind, akin to all these emotions he was trying to let go of but when he looked at his hands, the ashes stained his palms black and he realised that some things left scars long after they were gone.

“Yes, Miya?” he arched his eyebrow, leading Atsumu in the direction of the kitchen where he poured the setter another glass of water. Atsumu gladly accepted it and rested his hands on the rim of the glass, his thumb absentmindedly circling it until Sakusa reached over and firmly put a halt to the gesture, forcing him to put his hand down on the counter.

“Sorry,” Atsumu said, voice barely above a whisper and Sakusa shook his head.

“It’s fine. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Everything?” Atsumu managed to blurt out and the hesitation in his tone made the statement sound more like a question. “I don’t know where I went wrong and maybe I took more than I gave and –“

There were boundaries to everything and Kiyoomi Sakusa knew this better than anyone when he first got into volleyball. There were boundaries on the court, boundaries in relationships, borders that could never be crossed, lines drawn so fine you could easily ignore them but he chose not to because he knew there were some lines which if crossed, there was no coming back from. But seeing Atsumu crumble as though he was a fragile vase, Sakusa came to be aware that people weren’t objects you could take apart and put back together. Broken things remained broken no matter how faint the crack was and Sakusa knew, oh God forbid it he _knew_ how much he paled in comparison to Kita and could never replace him. But tonight, he wanted to at least try.

Going around the counter, he approached Atsumu and put one finger under his jaw, tilting it slightly so that their gazes met and he closed the gap between them. There was no objection from Atsumu and Sakusa didn’t know whether he was supposed to feel elated or dejected when the hollow space within his chest nestled between the confines of his ribcage somehow beat faster with its erractic rhythm yet he still felt so empty, as though he was kissing a ghost.

He forced himself to pull away, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt as Atsumu stared blankly at him. “Sorry,” Sakusa apologised. “I got carried away.”

Atsumu shook his head, “it’s fine, Omi-kun. I’m sorry for coming to yer house without any warning beforehand. I’m sorry you always have to deal with my mess. I’m sorry-“

“Atsumu, you don’t have anything to apologise for.”

Sakusa averted his gaze immediately after saying that and Atsumu nodded, getting up from the chair. “I’ll be heading home then, thank you, Omi-kun. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

“Don’t be late,” Sakusa chided as Atsumu grinned in reply and Sakusa was reminded of exactly why he had fallen in love with the man and how good it was to see him smile after such a long time.

The door closed behind Atsumu and the fan blades whirred at top speed twice before Sakusa felt the tears start to stream down his cheek. Somehow, something inside him had broken this time and he knew it couldn’t be fixed anymore. Somehow Miya Atsumu had managed to both heal _and_ hurt him; but Kiyoomi Sakusa was not angry, no. At this moment he felt terribly human, and terribly, terribly _alone._

The next time Atsumu came knocking on his door, Sakusa leaned against the doorframe as a soft smile played on his lips and he opened his arms wide. _Hello, welcome home._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading! Feel free to come scream at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cherrybomb_su)


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